Being Human

By Jet Set Yoyo

Disclaimer: FYI I don't own shit. ;3

Summary: "It's nice to not have to kill anything." Those words meant more to Prompto than the others could have ever known. Heavy spoilers.

MT's were created using the essence of Daemons; robots imbued with the bloody-thirsty energy of the damned but with all the predictability of a controllable object. It was evident that this alone was not enough to bring Niflheim to victory against the Lucians and so Verstael went back to the drawing board. A new idea arises and it is soon put into effect that all firstborn children from every family would be drafted into the Magitek army. This was an understatement to say the least but neither Verstael nor Iedolas wanted to alarm the masses lest they grow a desire to revolt. Hundreds of children were rounded up all varying ages for experimentation.

The title may likely be temporary. I'm usually good at coming up with them but today I seem to be having a difficult time.

"As you all know the threat of the Lucians grows ever stronger and our robotic forces are not enough to withstand their power. It is with a heavy heart I, Iedolas Aldercapt, shall now decree that all families shall enlist their firstborn child to the Magitek army where they shall be raised and trained up to fight against these formidable monster who threaten our very way of life," a booming voice rang out over every speaker, television, and radio throughout Niflheim tearing into the relative peace of the morning like a hot knife. People huddled around their devices in silence; some shocked, others in tears at the thought of their little ones being trained for war. Many hoped it would never come to this, that the robotic Magiteks would be enough to cease this war.

The Night Before

"Hey Mama, have you ever ridden a chocobo? How come we don't see any? Is there a chocobo farm in the city?"

A thin framed blond pressed his freckled nose to the kitchen window, vivid blue eyes squinting to see through the smog of the city at the night life below their tiny third story home. He could barely see over the windowsill, fairly short even for a four year old. A slightly heavy set woman standing over the sink tended to the dishes left from supper. She let out a tired sigh, exhaustion evident upon her face but smiled warmly nonetheless at the question.

"No love, there aren't any chocobos left in Niflheim, the Lucians stole them and killed all the rest," she told the boy, frowning lightly for a fleeting moment. So not to upset her son she changed the subject quickly. "Prompto, get away from the window now. Go brush your teeth it's time to settle down for the night. I'll read you a chocobo story if you hurry."

"Woohoo! Chocobos!" Prompto squealed in delight, pushing off from the window and darting out of the kitchen. His sing-song voice chanting, 'choc-chocobo, choco, chocobos' all through the house as he went. It would have laughter worthy had she not been so exhausted. It was all she could do just to smile.

Keeping the rambunctious boy busy during the day, working, cleaning, and cooking were no easy feat as a single mother. Prompto's father was not present; likely uncaring about the child's well-being much less her own. He had told her he wanted a child. Not once after did he visit, even as she carried the boy in her womb for nine months the man never returned but that was a story for another day.

Aside from the sing-song voice across the house now faint behind the closed bathroom door, the soft clanking of dishes and the rush of the water the relative silence gave the woman a moment's reprieve. Soon after putting Prompto to bed she would head off to work and not be back until morning where it was likely she would barely get a few hours of rest before he would wake again. She finished the dishes, setting the last of them onto the rack to dry and drying her hands off when young Prompto emerged from the bathroom, dressed haphazardly in a mismatched pajama set.

"Ready Mama!" He chirped, skipping down the tiny hallway towards the bedroom he shared with her. His little bed sat in the corner of the equally tiny room, a rainfall of well worn toys strewn about the floor. Prompto dove into the bed, scurrying under the covers and fidgeted impatiently until she followed him retrieving his favorite book as she sat down. Despite his excitement he barely made it through half of the story before he was snoring lightly, out for the night. His mother smiled again, stopping for a moment to gaze down at him. She peered over every inch of his face just as she did every night when he was still enough for her to really look at him. His angelic face looked so peaceful as he slept; light freckles dotted his chubby cheeks and button nose. His blond lashes caught the dim light just right and appeared brighter than they really were. Kissing him gently, she stood and hurried to get ready for work.

"I love you Prompto."

The next morning just as her shift ended and the sun was barely peeking over the horizon shining in dust speckled rays through the smoggy city air was when the announcement rang out. Plenty of people were already beginning their morning; a few not unlike herself were just ending their day. She was just wrapping herself in her coat, moments away from stepping out the door when she stopped to listen. Seconds felt like hours as her blood froze. The morning noises turned to ringing in her ears and for a minute she heard nothing, felt nothing. Then the wave of dread and fear washed over her like a tsunami and she bolted, desperate to get home. Soldiers were already out and about. Vans lined the streets as crying children were led away from crying parents, loaded up like cattle for the slaughterhouse. Suddenly she felt angry but the fear still outweighed that particular emotion and she sprinted even faster down the city streets, weaving around people and cars. She slowed for a moment, struggling for her keys to unlock their front door until she looked up to see it was already open.

"Prompto!" She screamed through gasping breaths, dashing inside and throwing open the bedroom door. The bed was empty, his little red blanket hanging off of it.

"No. No, no, no, no, no! Prompto! Prompto!" She wailed, tearing apart the house hoping to find him playing a game and hiding somewhere. He never usually was up this early but she wouldn't stop until she was sure. He wasn't there. Prompto was gone. Sinking to her knees she began to wail loudly. There was nothing she could do to get him back. It was an order from the Emperor. Still she had to try. Standing on shaking legs and willing away her tears she returned outside, scanning the one lane street for the van her son would've been loaded into. A cluster of soldiers, real ones not robots, stood a quarter mile down the way already.

"Please, my son. Prompto, he's all I have. Give him back," she started as soon as she had made her way towards them. A few of the soldiers turned, holding heavy rifles in their hands, and studied the woman. "You have to give him back."

"Ma-am, return to your home. Orders are all firstborns, no exceptions."

"No, you don't understand. He's not fit for the army. He's such a sweet boy. Please, please you can't take him. I won't tell anyone. Please, just give me back my baby."

"Ma-am I won't tell you again. Return to your home immediately. This is not negotiable."

"No, no, no please. Please. Please, give him back. Give him back!" She was hysterical now, even more so as two of the soldiers aimed their rifles at her. She clawed desperately at the closest one, trying to push past them to the van.

"Grab her, she's being detained," One of the soldiers ordered flatly, shoving the woman to the ground and carrying on. She was lifted up by each arm; now flailing and kicking wildly at them. People stopped to stare, only to be shooed away by the cluster of armed soldiers. She was tossed haphazardly into another van alone where she continued to sob uncontrollably.

"Prompto… my baby. Where's my baby. Give me my baby!"

Meanwhile in one of the vans, little Prompto sat huddled in the corner of the dark space. Even if the soldiers were supposed to protect them, the guns still made him wary and leaving his home behind wasn't high on his list of adventures he wanted to embark on for the day. Besides, wouldn't his mother be worried sick if he wasn't home? He sniffled, fat tears streaming down his cheeks not unlike the dozen or so of other children in the vehicle with him. Faintly he could've sworn he heard her voice but perhaps it was only wishful thinking. Ducking his face down into his arms crossed over his knees that he now pulled to his chest, Prompto continued to cry.

I'm not 100% sure where I'm going with this but here's a prologue/possible one-shot. My intention is to have a full blown story but I make no guarantees. Life's busy. There won't be another update until after Christmas; I'll be traveling.